


The Pursuit in Annoying Others

by Youtube_Fandom_Fan2019



Category: Video Blogging RPF
Genre: Gen, Inspired by Welcome to Night Vale, Light Angst, Radio Host Antisepticeye
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-27
Updated: 2018-07-27
Packaged: 2019-06-17 02:50:28
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 688
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15451734
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Youtube_Fandom_Fan2019/pseuds/Youtube_Fandom_Fan2019
Summary: Anti is bored. And when he's bored he gets to do the most strangest - if not interesting - jobs.This time, his joking around will be taken to a brand new level.





	The Pursuit in Annoying Others

The Septic Household

Location:  _ Unknown _

Time:  _ 9:00pm _

\-----------------

“J̶͇͒̍ͅA̵̲̞͎͛C̸̘͓̳͐̇̃̐͜K̸̠̀̃̅̀Ả̵͎̹͆B̸̪͇̬͑͝O̷̬͙͗̐͂̐̈͠Ẏ̶̛͕̘̈́!”

Sean McLoughlin seemed to jump two metres into the air when that irritatingly familiar warped voice echoed - no,  _ boomed _ \- around the room; the shrill hiss of static that roared in his ears, as well as the flickering of the lights above him, announcing the arrival of the casually dressed tulpa.

But what worried Sean was not the fatigued appearance that seemed to present itself in the telltale signs of bags under mismatched eyes of oceanic blue and dark green and unkempt curls of the same hue as his right eye but the spasmodic jerking of the fingers of his hands which rested on either side of the demon’s side. 

Nevertheless, he was the embodiment of positiveness and so he had to spread it to others.

“Bottom of the evening to ya, laddie!” He greeted in his characteristic energetic fashion (which seemed to make his dark side’s temper worse due to his right eye twitching). “How can I help you on this fine -”

“Į̴͎̩̆̍'̷̢̩̲̫͂͒M̵̪̬̖̐̎ ̴͔̤̟̘̓͂͘B̸̨̯̦̫͆͝Ȍ̷͓͛͝Ŗ̴̙̞̞͋̏E̴͓̺͛D̸̜̓̿!̶͓͚̬̫̽̇͝” The screeching that came with these yelled words caused Sean to cower in fear as his doppleganger stormed forward and slammed his creator against the back of the chair with a clenched fist wrapped around the collar of Sean’s shirt as the other pressed a trembling knife against Sean’s throat. “Î̴̪ ̵͈̔A̶̤͂M̷͔͆ ̶̧́S̴̹͗Ĩ̷̧C̷͉̆K̴͙̈́ ̶̯͂Ó̸̢F̵̼̅ ̵͓̌W̸̺͌A̵͜I̶̘͝T̶̡I̶̡̚Ň̶̜G̵͙͌ ̶͎̽F̷̞̂O̵̝͊R̵̮͆ ̴̳̓Y̵̡͂O̷̠̅U̶̲̽ ̸̌ͅT̶̻̂O̴͇͆ ̷̼̓F̶̠̊Ȉ̸̧Ṅ̶̦Į̸̊S̸̳̕H̸͚̍ ̵͎̿W̷͔̉H̴̘̐A̴̛̬T̵͕̓Ě̴̗Ṽ̸̥E̵̠͋R̷̙͛ ̵̟̍Y̸̬̔O̸̧͗Ú̷̲'̵̘͑R̴̤͗E̶͍̓ ̴̻́Ḏ̸́O̶̦͒I̴͈̅N̸̡̂G̷̬͂ ̸̤͝Ȧ̵̗N̷̼͝D̸ͅ ̵̲͛Ĩ̷̪Ṱ̷'̶̨͠S̸͚̓ ̸͓͗Ả̶̡B̶͇̐O̵͇͐U̵̟̕T̴̢̈ ̸̓ͅT̵͈͒I̴̥̿Ṃ̵̅E̸̤͌ ̶̼̕I̵̙̊ ̷̳͌D̴͚̈́I̵͖̍D̶̬̿ ̴̥͌S̶̖Ơ̸̲M̴̪̆Ĕ̵͙T̷̠͒H̴̯̕Ĭ̴̬N̵̫͝G̷͈̏ ̷̮̇F̶̣̏O̴̮͐R̶̫̈ ̷̱̚M̶͈͒Ẏ̵̻S̵̝͌Ë̴͇́L̶̪͆F̸̩̈́!̷͖̀”

A terrible silence fell onto the room and after taking a shaky breath, Sean dared to look up into his alter ego’s eyes and his voice was no louder than a whisper as he asked, “So … so you’re asking me to do something about it?”

The very slow transition from an animalistic snarl to a terrifying smile that passed across the fiend’s lips was enough to turn Sean’s blood to ice and send chills down the Irishman’s spine as that menacing face leaned in close to whisper, “O̷̬̍f̴̫͠ ̶̧͐ĉ̴̖o̷̹̓u̴̲̐r̴̛̖s̵͖͋ę̶́ ̸͙̀Ḯ̸̢'̶̼̿m̵͉̈́ ̷̠̔a̷̗̔s̷͔͘k̸̝̐ḯ̵̲n̶͍̚g̵͝ͅ ̵̈́ͅy̸̹̅o̶͉͝u̷̞͑ ̶̠̆ṫ̷̠ö̵̦ ̸͇̀d̶͓͘ó̶̢ ̴͚̑s̶͚͒ǫ̸̔m̷̩̊e̶̜̍t̶̨h̶͐͜ĩ̸͉ṉ̴͑g̴͕͐ ̷̣̕ǎ̴̙b̸̲̈o̸̮͐ȗ̸̯t̴͚͂ ̶̙̑ĭ̶̤t̸̜́.̴͉̿ ̸̥͗B̷̩͊ë̷͔s̵̜͋ĩ̵̝d̷͇͝é̷̩s̷͖͊,̵͕͝ ̷̭͒I̸̭̋'̶̦̀m̴͙͛ ̵̫̓â̷̩l̶̞̔r̵̙̃e̷̪̍a̴̤͌ḋ̷̟y̵̭̆ ̸̣̽p̵̤̈o̸̬̓p̶̡̐u̴̟͋l̸̺͂a̸͉͠r̵̯͗ ̷̯̈́a̷̮̐ḿ̵̰o̷͍͗n̵̩͗g̷̝̈́ ̶̖͗t̷̛͕h̸̝̎e̴̟̊ ̶͙͛h̶̢̉e̷̜̎ȁ̴̲r̴̠̍t̷̫͑ś̶ͅ ̶͕͛ő̴̢f̵̮̉ ̷͎̓y̶̠̽o̸̱ŭ̶͖r̷͈̊ ̵̙́p̸̩͝r̷̜͒ȇ̵ͅc̵̪̚i̷̭o̸͍͊u̷̬ș̴̏ ̸̣̈́f̷̼̌a̴̗̔n̷̲͐b̴̹̿ä̷͕́s̶̥̐ẹ̷͝.̷͓̚ ̷̤̍”

And all that Sean could do was to nod in agreement and the crackle of the environment shifting as Anti (for that was what the fans gave him) left did nothing to prevent the almost deafening silence that loomed over the unfortunate Sean as he hugged his knees towards his chest and wept.

@

Markiplier Manor

Location:  _ Unknown _

Time:  _ 10:00pm _

The soft buzzing as the radio seemingly switched itself on and navigated through the channels that were programmed onto the invention stirred fellow YouTuber Mark Fischbach from his peaceful slumber. Uttering a low groan, he sat up and quietly snuck out of bed to try and turn off the radio but to no success.  

“ **Whoever is behind this is going to pay for what they’ve done.** ” A monotone voice which belonged to his manipulatively-driven tulpa arose at the back of his mind and he muttered something incoherable under his breath as he collapsed back onto his bed and attempted to fall back into his routine of sweet dreams and -

“̷̦́H̷̠͂ë̸͖l̶̞l̶̘̇o̴̪̅,̷̻̈́ ̸͇͠m̴̧̏y̶̰͝ ̶͇̉d̶̝̆e̶̢ą̵̾r̵̝̅ ̶̺́l̸̳̎i̵͔͑s̷̪̈́t̶͇͛ě̴ͅn̴̗̈́ẹ̷̊ř̵̭s̷̠̊,̴̩͐ ̸̹̿d̶̳͠i̷͕̚d̶̪̈ ̷̜y̴̼̚ǒ̶͙u̷̮͝ ̶͖̾m̷̝͌i̵̙̅s̶̩̿s̶̗͑ ̴̛̱m̵̮͗e̵̤͆?̸̗͠”̷̘̌

  
“ **WHAT THE-** ” Mark cried out as his alter took control in a massive burst of energy and possessing a clearly mad snarl, Dark strode towards the radio and stood there with tightly clenched fists and barely suppressing the urge to smash the damned thing that stood on the top of the chest of drawers to pieces.

To cut to the chase, hearing  _ that _ voice was enough to make Dark - as well as Mark - both forever hate their lives.

~

And in an alternate universe, in a lavishly decorated replica of a radio booth located in who knows where, the green-haired demon wearing his own unique set of headphones and possessing a satisfied smirk leant back in his seat and stroked the fur of a panting hellhound which lay by his side as he concluded his broadcast by saying:

“̵͗ͅG̴͓̑ő̷̭o̶̗̎d̷̗̅n̸̓͜i̶̺͋g̵͕̀h̵̺̅t̶̼̏,̶̤̈́ ̶̬̈́J̵̞̍a̵͚̕c̸̤̏k̴͍̂t̴̛ͅi̵̻͋o̴͔͋n̴̝̓.̶̩̐ ̶̭̒G̶̱̑o̷̦͝o̸̭͒d̸̼̿ ̵̟͋n̸̢̛ȋ̸̠g̷̻̕ẖ̶͝t̷̿͜.̴́͜”̶͈̐ ̸͚̇ ̵͉͐ ̶̼̇ ̴̢͘


End file.
